Dirty smelly unworthy Detroit 5

Blue Jays 12



On that note. I really hate Baseball and would shoot myself in the throat if I ever had to sit through a full game on the t.v. The only way I ever handled it was live and with the help of my buddy Molson Canadian

Beginning of baseball tops all else

Padrick Brewer

You will have to excuse me if I sound love drunk, as I am still recovering from Valentine's Day.

After nearly three and half months of shuffling through the doldrums of late fall and winter, my Valentine came back Thursday, and I am anticipating the near eight months we will have together.

To make a long, convoluted story short: baseball is back.

Pitchers and catchers reported Thursday, which means that America can immerse itself in its national pastime and forget about all those other activities masquerading as sports.

Is Kelvin Sampson going to get fired from Indiana? Who cares!

Shady recruiting by college football coaches? Whatever!

Will Jason Kidd finally get traded? Doesn't matter!

All that matters now is that we all can ignore that crap and focus on what is really important and examine the real questions plaguing our society.

Like, will the Tigers' revamped infield make them World Series favorites?

Or will the Yankees' cache of young pitchers rescue them from their seven-year World Series drought?

Will people stop saying that Ryan Theriot deserves to be anywhere near the top of the Cubs lineup?

Answers:

Yes.

Maybe.

And no. He is the David Eckstein for the next generation of idiots.

Those are the questions driving America.

Elections don't matter, the economy doesn't matter, the premiere of Definitely, Maybe doesn't matter, the war in Iraq doesn't matter and Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition definitely - well, maybe - doesn't matter.

All that matters is that we now sit 11 days from the mandatory reporting date for all players and just 44 days from the most holy of holidays: Opening Day.

It's like the Sabbath, the Shabbat and President's Day all rolled into one and then multiplied by about a billion.

Baseball is the most important activity/event in America, and I'm only partly joking.

The NFL may have the better ratings, and the NBA may have the better athletes, but nothing captures the spirit of Americana better than baseball. It's like the sport version of Waffle House.

It's the reason that Barry Bonds is being railroaded, that Roger Clemens is ringmaster of a Congressional Circus and why Bud Selig gets to keep his turkey neck in the front office of the MLB until 2012.

It's why Alex Rodriguez has become synonymous with exorbitant contracts and why Derek Jeter has tagged more women than a graffiti artist has tagged walls.

Will Leitch wrote in his book God Save the Fan that the reason steroids are such a big issue in baseball and not in other sports is that the public views baseball as the everyman activity.

"Baseball is seen as the game that normal people can play," Leitch writes.

And to some extent that's the truth.

But it applies more to how the fans actually enjoy the game.

Baseball combines the extreme with the mundane to which most people can relate.

It is the daily grind that is highlighted by the occasional outburst of something spectacular.

Our lives legitimize the sport, because they mirror each other.

Baseball is like being a temp: you do the same thing every day for a company with which you were placed until you find something better or they don't need you anymore.

Baseball just has more chewing tobacco and slightly more frequent group showers.

There is a lot more money involved, but the premise is the same, and that's why the fans come - unless the team plays in Florida, then they won't come at all.

And with 162 regular season games and a postseason that lasts about a month, baseball is about as pervasive as you are going to get.

Because of its length, baseball lends itself to larger sample sizes, making legitimate statistical analysis a reality, so you can actually follow the sport intellectually, which is a bonus.

I mean, who really wants to sit down and have some fat bag of noise - Chris Berman - scream and yell at them?

You want to know why the Orlando Cabrera-for-Jon Garland trade was so moronic? You can actually look it up.

So keep your last-second 3-pointers, hockey throat slashings and Giant upsets.

I'll take Todd Helton drawing a walk anytime.